Comfort Me
by kendra151
Summary: Comfort can be found in the most unlikely of places. TWO SHOT
1. Chapter 1

**Pretty much nothing but pure Kane smut. Proceed at your own risk! ;-)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Kane or Glen Jacobs. But if I ever have the means to clone him, that bastard is MINE!**

**Ch****apter 1**

The expensive i Phone disintegrated against the pale yellow plaster of the wall, which had been the obvious intention, based on the force with which it had been thrown.

Glen cursed, his hand running across the smooth surface of his head. He wondered how things had gotten to this point.

He was Glen Jacobs. Known to most as Kane. Or the Big Red Monster. Whichever moniker they preferred to use. But beneath the professional glitz and glamor of the wrestling world, he was no monster. Just a mortal man. An icon to thousands. An acquaintance to hundreds. A friend to even less. A husband to one.

Or at least he had been. Still was. For the time being.

The most recent phone call had ended the same as all the others in recent memory. In the throes of a passionate argument that he never seemed to win. The frequent absence that his career required was finally starting to take its toll on the relationship, the anger and frustration boiling over in every conversation that they had. He could sense the end coming. He could see it as plainly as if he were watching it on a big screen, as though he were just an observer. An innocent bystander who could do nothing but watch as the world unraveled around him.

Loud and intense, the argument that he'd just ended with the smashing of the phone had been, by far, the worst. Filled with accusations of deceit. Abandonment. Unfaithfulness. Threats of dissolution. Legal documents. Even a restraining order.

He felt tired. Defeated. The home that should have been a safe haven, the one that had been paid for with his own blood, sweat and tears, was instead a battlefield, scattered with a thousand mines that, at any time, might explode in his face.

Without offering a second glance to the plastic pieces scattered across the carpet, he grabbed his keys and headed for the door. He needed to get away. Have a drink. Distract himself from the anger that was boiling inside of him. And now he needed to replace his phone.

He jerked the door open forcefully and stepped out into the hallway, surprising an unsuspecting woman, who happened to be walking past. She was much smaller than him. But then again, he thought, most people were. She was tan. Exotic. Long brown hair. Big brown eyes that gazed upon him without judgment. Without blame.

"What the hell are you looking at?" Glen sneered, his normally amicable demeanor replaced by a contempt that even his alter ego, Kane, would have trouble summoning.

The woman stopped two doors down from his, never taking her eyes off of him.

"I can help you." she stated softly as she slid the key card through the slot and opened the door. Then she was gone and Glen was by himself again, left alone to ponder the meaning of her words.

Help him? Hell yes, he needed help. Whether it was in the form of a marriage counselor, or an assassin, or a bottle of some mystery drug that would help keep the pain away. He needed something that would make him not care anymore.

He took a step closer to where, only seconds earlier, the woman had been standing and for the first time, noticed that she had left the door cracked. Whether it was intentional or not, he did not know, but it seemed to beckon for him to open it.

Hesitating only briefly, he moved closer, placing his hand on the flat surface of the door and easing it open.

She was standing beside the bed, watching as the door opened and he appeared in view. He thought it was as though she expected him to follow her, for there was no look of surprise on her face. Her words played across his mind, _I can help you, _and he wondered what kind of assistance this exceptional woman might have to offer him.

Neither of them spoke, only gazed at the other wordlessly, the room enveloped with a sense of peacefulness that Glen had not felt in ages. He studied the strange woman before him, taking note that the look that she returned to him was not one of recognition. This beauty did not hold the mischievous knowledge of a fan or a ringrat. She seemed curious. Intrigued. But not familiar.

He crossed the threshold into the room and instantly, he felt all of his anger dissipate, sucked from his body by some strange and foreign vacuum. He paused again, considering the new development. Those enchanting brown eyes still gazed upon him, silently beckoning to him, the woman still mute and unmoving before him.

He did not recall when he shut the door behind him. He was unaware of stalking across the floor toward her. But she did not retreat from his quick approach. Did not flinch as he pulled her into his arms. She surrendered to him without protest, her lips parting eagerly beneath his own as he kissed her, her arms lacing about his neck to pull him closer. He slanted his mouth across hers forcefully. Greedily. One hand fisting through her silky hair, the other clutching frantically at her breasts.

They fell clumsily onto the bed, Glen catching himself with a free arm to keep from crushing her, the jolt powerful enough to pull him back into reality. He was a married man. Even if everything was crumbling around him, he'd made a vow that wasn't meant to be broken. A vow that he had upheld to this day, despite the frequent accusations that were thrust upon him. This was wrong. It was forbidden.

He gazed down at the small brunette, who seemed to sense his hesitation, intending to extract himself from the precarious situation that he'd suddenly found himself. But even as he gathered his strength to pull away, the words echoed again in his mind. _I can help you_.

His eyes snapped to hers, questioningly, and he was captivated by the faintest twitch of a grin that played at the corner of her mouth. In a silent response, one hand slipped from the back of his neck, resting on his cheek as she guided his lips back to hers. The sensation bewitched him, sucking him back under her spell, his resolve shattered beneath sheer unbridled lust.

She WAS the help he needed. The unnamed antidote that he'd begged for to help relieve his pain. To soothe the ache in his heart.

With a renewed passion, he plundered her mouth with his tongue. Lavished the fragile shell of her neck and throat with soft kisses and gentle bites. His fingers working frantically to release the small buttons of her shirt without ripping the garment from her body in excitement.

All the while, her hands held him, touched him, explored him and he paused only long enough to rip off his own shirt, which she soundlessly urged him to lose.

How long had it been, he wondered to himself, as his mouth closed around one firm nipple, sucking it gently. How long had it been since he'd felt passion like this? How long since another had longed for his touch so desperately? He couldn't remember, his mind growing cloudy with need. Months? Years? He wasn't aware of exactly when the problems had started.

Small hands gripped his large shoulders, demanding his attention. He released one nipple, only to move to the second, his hand sliding beneath her to pull her to him. Slowly, he released her. Repositioning his hands on her hips, he kissed a slow torturous path down her stomach, over the soft dip of her navel, the muscles quivering in anticipation beneath his touch. He'd missed this. This urgency of need. This desperate fight for control. He missed this sweet agony of anticipation.

His grip on one hip strong, he held her to the bed, the fingers of his other hand tickling along the waistband of her jeans, before deftly unfastening the button. Effortlessly, she wiggled her way free as he pulled them down, throwing them carelessly over his shoulder, as he grasped her legs and pulled her back to him. Smiling, he resumed the same path he started moments earlier, his lips moving across her abdomen from hip to hip, where he once again held her in his grasp.

A faint whimper escaped her lips and he raised his eyes to her face, watching as dark hands slid up and over even darker breasts, teasing the erect nipples, before falling to the mattress on either side of her face. Her eyes were closed. Her breathing harsh. Her need as obvious as his own which was now throbbing painfully against him.

His gaze fixated on her, he dipped his head lower, tasting her, groaning with approval at the cry that passed her lips. Her back arched, her hands gripping the pillow tightly as he explored her. His mouth continued the sweet torment, her hips thrusting eagerly against his hand as thick fingers caressed her from inside out, bringing her again and again to the edge, but never allowing her cross that invisible line.

With a hunger he'd forgotten he'd had, he shed his remaining clothes, before rejoining her on the bed, acutely aware of how much he overshadowed her smaller frame. Drawing him in for another kiss, he allowed her to guide him, her legs slinking around his thick waist as he entered her.

The feel of her around him was too much, the last bit of sanity seeping out of him as he moved within her. She must have felt it as well, her breath caught in her throat, unable to issue a single moan or cry of pleasure as he withdrew and plunged forward again quickly. They moved together as one, whimpers filling the room as she found her voice again, gentle sighs of pleasure turning to harsh cries of need as the tempo of his thrusts increased. He felt her come apart in his arms, her body milking his as a thousand pinpoints of pleasure exploded within her, and she took him with her, a ferocious growl erupting from his chest as he came inside her.

How long they remained entwined together, how much time had passed since his shuddering release, he did not know. Everything seemed to stand still, nothing left of the world besides the two of them and what existed in this room.

He felt her stir beneath him and he moved to untangle himself from her, a surprised groan escaping his lips when he felt her legs tighten around his waist. She urged him onto his back, moving with him so that she was on top, still impaled on him. Soft hands ran up his stomach, across his chest, over his shoulders, to rest on the mattress beneath him. She leaned in, her lips brushing against his, ever so softly, before Glen pulled her closer and deepened the kiss.

She squirmed against him as strong hands gripped her to him. Shivered as feathery fingers trickled down her spine. Growing within her, he thrust his hips up sharply, swallowing her gasp of pleasure and surprise. She broke the kiss, her lips grazing across his jaw toward his ear. She bit the lobe gently and his hips jerked again in response, another whimper driven from her as he moved.

She was ready for him again, as he was her, her breath shaky as she braced her hands on his chest and sat upright, driving him deeper inside of her. His hands moved over her breasts, thumbs teasing the sensitive peaks into erectness, before moving downward to grasp her hips, steadying her. He forced himself to remain still, watching with wonder as she began to move on him, excitement coursing through every vein at the prospect of experiencing the sheer pleasure of her again.

Her head thrown back, breaths coming in short pants, she moaned as his thumb found her clit and began stroking it in time with her movements. She whimpered, shuddered, and Glen began to move within her, slowly finding the rhythm that would surely drive them both to madness. His eyes never closed, never traveled from her face, watching in enjoyment as her body strained for the release it so desperately sought. He felt her tighten around him, her body trembling, a strangled cry torn from her throat as she was thrown over the edge. His grip on her grew stronger, almost painful, and he thrust upward, his movements sharp and quick, seeking his own relief. Finally closing his eyes, he let the pleasure wash over him, grunting, cursing, growling, until the last tremor eased through him.

He found himself holding her, nearly crushing her to him and he was momentarily frightened that he had hurt her, until he felt soft lips on his chest, kissing the smooth skin above his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Quickly, quietly, the small form crept from the bathroom, glancing briefly at the giant asleep in the bed. A smile graced her lips as she turned her attention to the floor, searching for her clothes in the rapidly fading dusk of the room. She found her shirt first, turning her back to the bed as trembling fingers struggling to fasten the small buttons. Standing in front of the dresser, concentrating on the task at hand, she jumped when a massive arm appeared on either side of her, large hands gripping the wooden ledge of the furniture, effectively trapping her in place.

Slowly, she raised her gaze to the mirror above the dresser, studying the large man behind her. She watched as he slowly lowered his head to her ear.

"Not yet. Don't go."

His warm, deep voice sent a thrill through her, the need still evident in his plea. His words were the only ones that had been spoken between them since their initial encounter in the hall. Except for the sounds forced from them in the throes of pleasure, the room had remained silent.

He met her gaze in the mirror, watching her as she watched him. He towered over her by more than a foot, her brown skin a stark comparison to his own pale complexion. Her soft flesh and smooth curves offering a delightful contrast to hard muscle and massive bulk.

She turned in his arms, stretched up on tiptoes to kiss him, the partially buttoned shirt quickly finding its way back to the floor. Lifting her in his arms, he sat her on the edge of the dresser, guiding her legs about his naked waist. Tugging gently on her hair, he pulled her head back, exposing her throat to his lips. He was familiar with her now. Knew where to kiss. Where to touch. And his eyes snapped up to the mirror, watching himself as he devoured her. Small hands gripped his biceps, nails leaving sharp marks in the skin. His larger hand splayed across her lower back, offering support as well as restraint.

His lips met hers again briefly before moving to a firm breast, his arms like steel bands, holding her to him as she struggled beneath him.

"Hold on" he murmured, lifting her from the dresser, moving her across the room and back to the bed.

As he placed her on her back, she squirmed away, hands pressed against his chest as she tried to urge him onto his back.

"Not this time." he whispered, catching her wrists and pinning them to the bed as he laid over her. He captured one rosy peak in his mouth, grinning at the faint curse that fell from her lips as she arched into him.

He moved slower this time. Exploring her. Savoring her with a patience he didn't know he possessed. His strength a huge advantage, he kept her restrained beneath him, her soft pleas falling on deaf ears as she pleaded with him to end the sweet torment.

Finally taking mercy on her, he moved over her, pinning both wrists beneath one strong forearm when she reached to stroke him.

"No" he murmured, his free hand caressing her face, kissing her softly. Despite her extreme disadvantage, she did not display any fear, only a desperate need to quench the fire that burned within her.

He moved with her, filling her, steadying himself as she tightened around his hardness. With long, slow strokes, he carried them both toward the end they so frantically sought, waiting until she fell over the edge before he dared to allow himself to seek his own release. Drifting out of the resulting fog that clouded his brain and weakened every nerve, he felt her beside him, breathing softly, as she slipped into a peaceful slumber of her own.

**XXXXXXXXXXX**

The hot water trickled over her shoulders and down her back, warming her cool skin. She felt surprisingly energized, despite the effort she had exerted over the past few hours, and her body, which had been so thoroughly ravished, felt more alive than it ever had before. There was no soreness. No pain. Just a dull ache of longing for the man that was still sleeping peacefully in the other room.

She splashed water on her face, washing the sleep from her eyes, bringing herself more fully awake. The water pulsed in strong jets and she focused the stream at the muscles on the back of her neck, enjoying the way it relieved the persistent pressure that never seemed to completely dissolve. Even through closed eyes, she became acutely aware of the sudden change in lighting, the whole atmosphere of the room suddenly altered. Opening her eyes, she met the gaze of the large man, making room as he slipped into the shower beside of her.

"I was afraid you'd already gone." he murmured, kissing her softly.

She smiled, and without a reply, reached for the bottle of soap on the ledge of the tub. She flipped the top open easily enough with her thumb, before Glen pulled it from her grasp.

"Allow me." he grinned, and she held out the sponge in her hand expectantly. Instead, he poured a generous amount into his other hand, sitting the bottle down, before rubbing his hands vigorously together. Then starting at her neck, he began to work his them over her body, the soap leaving a light lather as he moved.

Closing her eyes, she concentrated solely on his hands, his touch, which was already so arousing, made even more erotic by the slickness of the soap. He turned her back to him, massaging the liquid into tight muscles, smiling at the groan of approval that escaped her lips. Then pulling her back into him, he supported her in his arms as soapy fingers rubbed over her breasts, down her stomach, to bury themselves in the slick juncture of her thighs. His movements meant only to tease, not satisfy, he nipped playfully at her ear as a moan of frustration parted from her lips.

Removing his hand, he urged her forward so she was bracing herself on the wall in front of her, before sinking to his knees behind her. With a light touch, he traced the curve of her backside, then kneaded the firm muscles, lathering up with more soap. Satisfied, he moved lower, cupping one frail ankle between his hands, rubbing and stroking the smooth skin as he worked his way back up. By the time his fingers brushed across her inner thigh to graze against her slick folds, she was in pure agony, but he gave her no opportunity for relief before he moved to the other leg. Working upwards the same way, he avoided the most intimate of areas, even as she tried to squirm her way into this hands.

He stood behind her and pulled her into his arms, kissing her gently, teasingly, as he guided her under the flow of water, his hands bringing her even more torment as they helped rinse the soap from her body. He loved how easily he could excite her. How she shamelessly begged for what she needed. Despite everything that they had experienced, there was still an air of innocence about her, a sense of wonder and anticipation, as though each time had been her first. Perhaps that was part of her appeal. The reason why his body craved her so, in the same way it needed food to nourish or air to breath.

His thoughts drawn back to the shower, he felt the kiss intensify, if only for a moment, before she pulled away from him.

"My turn." she whispered softly, grinning mischievously as she gathered the bottle of soap and squeezed a generous portion into her palm.

The man before her was so tall, she started mid-chest, moving out and upward, across hard pecs, over broad shoulders and strong arms. She half-massaged, half-teased, in the same manner he had done, her eyes frequently flitting up to his face, to see if she affected him even half as much as he did her. She was satisfied with the lust filled gaze that she saw in his eyes, the intensity of which sent a thrill through her body, and a chill down her spine.

Mimicking him, she dropped to her knees in front of him and she did not fail to hear the muffled moan that escaped his lips as she found herself eye-level with his obvious arousal. Starting with his lower leg, she moved upward, the same way he had done, fingers probing at hardened muscles, nails dragging teasingly over the sensitive skin of his inner thighs. And all the while, she kept her eyes on his cock, letting her warm breath fan over the length of him as she worked, pleased with the way it pulsed and jerked in excitement as she moved.

The rest of his body now clean, she eyed him hungrily as she squeezed another small dab of soap into one hand. Satisfied that it was slick enough, she enclosed it around him, stroking the length of him in slow, languid movements. Another heavy groan was wrenched from his lips, his head thrown back, eyes closed, his breathing harsh. Enthralled by the way he felt in her hand, she changed tempos, from slow to fast to slow again, experimenting with different hand positions, none of which seemed to disappoint. Feeling his hand give a gentle tug on her hair, she reluctantly released him and rose to her feet. He pulled her close, kissed her, and she did not miss the look of pure desire in his eyes.

Hands on his chest, she shook her head, guiding him under the water instead. Impatiently, he helped her rinse the soap from his upper body, releasing a groan of pure torture when she kneeled in front of him again.

"Soap." she reminded him, grinning at the lack of control that he displayed before her. She quickly rinsed the lather from his hips and thighs, moving downward along his legs, once again saving his cock for last. Returning to it, she again took him in her hands, washing the soap from the length of him, savoring the feeling of control that she seemed to have over him at that moment.

As the last of the bubbles washed down his legs to the floor of the shower, she leaned forward, taking the entire length of him in her mouth.

Glen growled, his hands slamming into the sides of the shower to hold himself up when he felt his knees go weak. "Fuck!"

Smiling, she found a steady rhythm, sliding him in and out of her warm mouth, increasing the pace only when she felt his hand on the back of her head again, guiding her.

He would fall. If she didn't stop now, if she took him all the way, he would fall and crush her beneath him. He simply could not endure any more of the sweet torment that she was inflicting upon him. Unable to voice a single protest, he had hoped the feel of his hand on her head would be enough to give her pause. But in fact, it seemed only to have the opposite effect. She sucked him faster, her tongue swirling around the sensitive tip, her hand once again joining in at the base of his cock.

The feel of all three sensations at once was too much and stars exploded behind his closed eyelids as he came into her mouth, _Fuck_ being the only intelligible word that he was able to form, as a string of curses escaped him.

He did not fall. But the moment she released him, the moment he felt himself coming back to life, he sank to his knees beside of her, pulling her against him. Catching his breath, he reached behind them to turn off the water, then reached for a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. With trembling hands, he dried her back and shoulders, while he rested his forehead against her own.

When he was satisfied that he could stand under his own power, he rose from the floor of the shower, pulling her with him, and resumed drying them both. Tossing the now damp towel to the side, he quickly swept her off her feet, picking her up effortlessly in his arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked, one arm draped around his shoulders for support.

"It's my turn now" he replied, grinning as he carried her back into the bedroom

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The sun had not yet started to rise by the time she pulled herself from the big man's side. With more stealth and confidence than the last time she tried, she found her clothes and dressed herself in the dark.

Gazing down at him while he continued to sleep, she studied him intently, a pang of regret shooting it's way through her heart. It was better this way. Once morning arrived, the spell would be broken, and the guilt and pain would be evident in his eyes. Their goodbyes would be strained, full of regret, staining the otherwise perfect evening they had created for themselves. She'd always hated goodbyes anyway. Nothing good had ever come from any of them.

He would not awaken this time. Not for a while. And by the time he did, she would be long gone. Nothing more than just another memory.

She had helped him. Just as he had helped her. Neither of them knowing what they'd needed until they'd found it.

Leaning over him, she kissed his lips one last time, then left the room, disappearing from his life as quickly as she had entered it.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The city was familiar. The hotel even more so. He'd been here before, although it had been over a year ago.

As Glen pulled into the parking lot, he gazed up at the building, remembering the last time that he'd been here. The wondrous night of passion spent with a mysterious woman. At times, he thought it nothing more than a distant dream, the memories so intense as to seem almost unrealistic. But something in his heart always pulled him back, reassuring him that it wasn't so.

Surprisingly, the guilt had faded quickly. He'd been disappointed by the woman's sudden disappearance, but the disappointment had also come with a sense of relief. What could he have said that would've made their parting any easier? He couldn't have stayed with her any longer, no matter how badly he might have wanted to.

He glanced down at the ring that he now wore on his left hand. His marriage, once on the brink of destruction, had somehow been salvaged. Things were not perfect. He wasn't sure if they ever would be. But the transformation that had occurred over the past year had been nothing short of miraculous. He had not confided his indiscretion to anyone, for it was a secret that he was certain was not meant to be shared. But his life was good. Vastly different from what it had been just a short time ago.

Checking in, he received his key, then strode unobserved to the elevators and proceeded to his room. Pausing in the hallway, he froze when he noticed the number on the door.

It was the same exact room where he'd stayed the last time he'd been here. He stared down at the key card in his hand in confusion, wondering what the odds were of being assigned the same room on two successive visits.

Soft footsteps pulled him from his deliberations and he gazed in amazement as a woman approached the room two doors down from his. The complexion of her skin, the color of her hair, every curve of her face familiar to him.

Her soft brown eyes turned on him as she unlocked the door to her room.

"You look like you could use some help." she stated softly, any sign of recognition well hidden behind her enchanting gaze.

Without another word, she disappeared into the room, leaving Glen to stand alone in the hallway. Glancing back to his room momentarily, he wondered if he stepped inside, if he would find himself asleep in the bed, this deja vu a result of a foolish dream.

Moving toward the doorway where the woman had been, he noticed that the door was slightly ajar. Pressing forward, he opened it cautiously, expecting to find that she had disappeared. But instead, he found her standing beside the bed, those same warm, brown eyes beckoning him to her.

She smiled at him faintly and in that instant the desire and longing that he'd experienced on that night not so long ago came rushing back in a flood of memories, stronger than any he'd ever known before.

He crossed the threshold into the room. And without realizing it, closed the door behind him.

~The End~


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